


veins

by chaotichimbo



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Awkwardness, Coming of Age, F/M, Female Friendship, Hurt Remus Lupin, James Potter is a Good Friend, Male-Female Friendship, Marauders Era (Harry Potter), Marauders Friendship (Harry Potter), Mild Hurt/Comfort, Muggle-born Pride, Mutual Pining, Non-Graphic Violence, Overprotective Sirius Black, Peter Pettigrew is a Good Friend, Protective Remus Lupin, Severus Snape Bashing, Shy Remus Lupin, Slow Burn, Young Remus Lupin, coming of age but when they come of age everything is shit
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-01
Updated: 2021-01-29
Packaged: 2021-03-11 02:55:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 16,360
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28487913
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chaotichimbo/pseuds/chaotichimbo
Summary: Remus Lupin can't decide what type of person she is. It's like she's different every time he sees her. And maybe that's why he kept coming back to her, despite the warnings he got from Sirius and this weird feeling he got in his gut whenever she was around. He wanted to figure her out. He wanted to figure her out so badly he might go insane along the way.orRemus Lupin can't protect the girl he loves and she's not inclined to let him try.(i hate jk rowling and her transphobia, anti semitism, and racism)
Relationships: James Potter/Lily Evans Potter, Mary Macdonald/Marlene McKinnon, Remus Lupin/Original Female Character(s), Sirius Black/Original Male Character(s)
Comments: 3
Kudos: 23





	1. prologue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> torrance learns three lessons  
> beat on the brat by the ramones

prologue

Torrance Drummond had learned three important life lessons before she turned thirteen. 

The first she learned at the young age of nine, when her knees were covered in dirt and scabs and the hair that her mother carefully braided every morning was undone and unruly. Young Torrance had made a habit of rolling around in dirt and grass, staining her clothes and her skin. She would gather long strands of grass and delicate white flowers that tickled her skin and mash them together with thick mud and call them potions. She would gather up all of the flowers that she could and arrange them upright in patterns she thought pretty and called it her enchanted little garden. She would run out the front door as soon as she had enough breakfast to please her mother and only come back when the sun had been set long enough to start worrying her mother. She lived in the hills behind her house. 

And it was with this unfaltering obsession with the dirt and the grass and the flowers that she made into her own little garden that Torrance got into her first fight. It was a solid looking boy, maybe a year or two older than her. He wasn’t special, Torrance knew. As her mother always told her, she was the only special person around, and she probably shouldn’t go blabbing on about it to anyone else she happened to meet; they’d be afraid of just how special she was. But that kind of insisting and pestering from her mother to keep her mouth closed about just how special she was was exactly what gave Torrance that extra little edge to snarl at that older boy when he was ripping up her favorite wildflowers. It made her furious, the way he tore up the petals and kicked up the roots and laughed like their destruction could only bring joy. Torrance had clenched her jaw and ground her teeth together and before she knew it she was running up to him like a madman, cursing him out with words she knew from her father that would make her mother run pale. 

He laughed at her yelling, asked her if she was going to cry over the pretty little flowers. And he didn’t know, but Torrance Drummond didn’t cry. Not, at least, since she could remember. Torrance didn’t like to cry. But he didn’t know that. He didn’t know that instead of rubbing her balled up fists into her teary eyes, like he thought most little girls, that Torrance would take those tiny little fists and ram them into his head, the ripped up petals flying to smack the boy in the face. Then it was him who was crying. 

It was done after that, Torrance had thought. She won, like she always did. What Torrance thought the boy would do was run home and hang in his head in shame and learn to never mess with her again. But Torrance didn’t know the boy, just as he didn’t know her. And instead of toughening up, the boy went and ratted on her, leaving with a one week sentence to her room and a permanent ban from the garden, with nothing left for her to do. The boy had made a move she wasn’t expecting and hit her so hard she lost the fight. 

Lesson number one:  _ don’t start fights you can’t finish. _

The second came a little bit later, when Torrance learned that there was a word for just how special she was and that word was:  _ witch.  _ Her poor mother nearly fainted at the word when she first heard it. Because her mother and her father were not special, and Torrance had a new word for that too:  _ muggle _ . 

Finding out that the gentle pink sparks that she made fly around her room at night while her parents were asleep and the disregarded petals that slapped the face of the boy she didn’t like were because she was a  _ witch  _ felt right. She felt vindicated. People in her small little town had called her a freak and a weirdo and now she was going to a school that they weren’t even  _ special  _ enough to know about. Torrance felt  _ better  _ than everyone else. 

It wasn’t a feeling that lasted long. 

Torrance started her first year loud. She voiced her opinions and her thoughts and took no shame in telling everyone around her how  _ funny  _ she thought it was that she ended up a witch when her parents were  _ muggles.  _ She told everyone how strange she thought the word was. She asked the people around her to explain the difference between Galleons and Sickles and Knuts because she just couldn’t keep it straight. She talked in class and asked questions and didn’t notice when people were laughing at her. It only took a few days for the whole school to know that this loud little first year in the red and gold uniform was muggle-born. 

And it only took about a week for Torrance to hear the word  _ mudblood.  _

It was some older girl. Some older girl in Slytherin with her robes shining and her dark curls long. She didn’t know what the word meant but she wasn’t thick enough to miss the venous way it was spoken. It was an insult. 

Torrance was sitting on the edge of her bed, looking at her roommate and her long red hair and she said, “Lily, what’s a mudblood?” 

The question made Lily Evans turn bright red and haughty and she clenched her fists by her side and told Torrance that it was an  _ awful, foul  _ name for someone like them. Someone with muggle parents. And it was the confused look on Torrance’s face that made Lily explain to her for a good thirty minutes that the belief in  _ blood purity  _ would give the two of them a very hard time for a very long time. “Honestly, Tor, if anyone calls you that you tell a teacher right away.” 

The suggestion had made Torrance scrunch her face up. She didn’t like the idea of being a tattletale. People who did that to her back home ended up with mud pies in their face. Torrance was always the one being tattled  _ on;  _ she was never the one snitching. No, she could deal with this problem herself, like she always did. 

“Some seventh Slytheirn called me in the hall. Y’know, the one with that crazy curly hair?” 

This statement from Torrance launched Lily into another long rant about how  _ that  _ was Bellatrix Lestrange and that  _ she  _ was the most evil wench that anyone could possibly imagine. That Bellatrix and her whole family were evil and bigoted and that they  _ slept  _ with each other to preserve their  _ pure blood.  _ It was enough to make Torrance feel nauseous. She didn’t know how  _ anyone  _ could think they were better than someone if their parents were  _ related.  _

So the next time miss Lestrange walked past young Torrance and dropped her little insult at Torrance’s feet, the younger girl looked up at her with bold eyes and yelled, “Why don’t you shut your mouth? Your parents are  _ cousins _ !” 

The hex that hit Torrance left her in the hospital wing for the rest of the day. 

Lesson number two:  _ keep your mouth shut.  _

Last, Torrance entered her second year of school a little more calm and a little more knowledgeable and the word  _ mudblood  _ started to roll off her back like it was nothing. She knew a fair few hexes to keep herself safe, when she needed to. She did her schoolwork, even though Lily Evans, one of about four people who could  tolerate Torrance and her volume, and probably her best friend, had to practically force her into the library. Some subjects came easier than others. Some came very hard. They all came easy to Lily. 

Torrance was thinking about that when she left the library, her finished but overall not that great Charms essay in her bag. She could  _ do  _ the charms just fine, she just couldn’t write about them. She didn’t even know  _ how  _ she did them. Torrance really couldn’t write about anything. But Lily, she was so good at doing it  _ and  _ explaining that sometimes Torrance had to wonder if she was lying about having muggle parents. Torrance went to Hogwarts blind, and felt like she had to work to catch up. Lily didn’t have to do that work. 

She was telling herself that she wasn’t jealous of her friend, even though she knew she was, when she heard the yelling. Curious, she followed the sounds down the hall to the sight of two green robed and bulky boys using their wands and superior knowledge to torment some first year Hufflepuff and before she could stop herself, Torrance was yelling, “Hey! Leave him alone!”

And when all was said and done, Torrance had suspiciously wet lumps on her face that smelled as repulsive as they looked and just as many detentions as the two boys that started it. 

Lesson number three:  _ mind your own business.  _

And when Torrance entered her third year, she was a different person than she was her first year. She didn’t talk loudly to anyone who would listen anymore; she didn’t really talk to anyone who wasn’t her small group of friends. She didn’t boast about her muggle parents; she kept that information close to her chest. She didn’t insult Slytherins in the hall and she didn’t jump into fights. Because those three lessons weighed down on her mind those first two years. Every time someone rolled their eyes at the sound of her Scottish drawl or they avoided sitting next to her in class to avoid the way she protested against anything she thought to be an injustice, Torrance realized that those three lessons weren’t living in the forefront of her mind enough. 

So her third year was silent, hidden in the background with her redheaded friend. Nose tucked in books and eyes traveling across the common room to watch anyone else who dared to be rowdier than her. And she was almost disappointed to realize that even when she stepped out of the center of the room and off to the side, head tucked down, people still weren’t inclined to strike up a conversation with her. They just went from being annoyed by her to ignoring her. Torrance had to admit that the latter half was better. 

There was one benefit, though, to her newfound invisibility. Torrance was always too busy running her mouth to put it into practice, but she was observant. She watched the people around her and she knew them. She knew the way she talked and she knew the way they stood when they were uncomfortable and what their voices sounded like when they were lying. Torrance saw it all and she learned it all and while the world went around without paying her much mind, Torrance was paying  _ everyone  _ and  _ everything  _ mind. 

Torrance paid a lot of mind to Remus Lupin, the first half of their third year, Because when she was noticing every other Gryffindor and all their peculiar little habits, she noticed that Lupin had the most peculiar habits of all of them. She noticed that the skin under his skin hung a little lower and grew a little darker once a month, around the same time he disappeared to the hospital wing and the same time that his friends walked around classes yawning and half-witted. 

It didn’t really take her long to put it together. 

And it was really lucky for Remus that Torrance had learned her three lessons. 


	2. chapter one

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> torrance doesn't really know what she's doing  
> pretty vacant by the sex pistols

“What are you looking for?” Torrance asked, chewing slowly on her Cornish pasty. Torrance was bored and Lily was looking all around the Great Hall, everywhere but at the friend across from her. The redheaded girl had been distracted ever since they set foot on the train earlier in the day and it was fine then but now Torrance was bored. “James Potter?” 

Lily had the audacity to scoff in indignation, like Torrance didn’t notice that James Potter was always on the forefront of Lily’s mind ever since last year’s dramatic ending. “I am _not_ looking for James Potter. If I’m ever looking for James Potter, it’s because I want to know where _not_ to go,” she said, still not looking straight ahead. “Can’t believe you’re such good mates with him.” 

Torrance raised her shoulders. “Then who _are_ you looking for?” she insisted, not letting the conversation deflect to her minimal friendship with her Potions partner. 

“Remus Lupin,” Lily replied easily, raising herself a little in her seat to get a better view. “I swear, those four are up to something _stupid,”_ she said, though it was mostly to herself. 

“Are you’re not just looking for Lupin so he can tell you where James Potter is?” 

It was this statement that earned a harsh glare from Lily. It had no effect on Torrance; she had received plenty of these glares from her best friend over the past few years. She said plenty to annoy her. “We’re slated to do rounds together tonight, y’know, _prefect_ duties. But I haven’t seen him all day _or_ any of his friends and I just _know_ that can’t be good.” 

Torrance hummed, shying away from the conversation and focusing more on the food in front of her. Lily Evans was not, in the least, stuck up or snobbish or anything of the sort, but she did get extremely _particular_ when it came to her prefect duties and Torrance would rather focus on her dinner than listen to her friends anxieties. 

So she chewed, enjoying the taste of a warm school dinner after a whole summer of her mother’s haggis. And after a few minutes of seeing nothing, Lily slumped back down in her seat with a sigh, resigned to just a few gentle murmurs about how those bloody _Marauders_ were always finding new ways to get on her nerves. It only took a couple scoops of potatoes for her to forget about it, at least for the moment, and ramble on about her course load. 

It was the first night of their sixth year, after all, and even though classes were yet to start, Lily had spared no expense in reminding Torrance that this was the year to get _serious_ about her class work. And though Torrance was annoyed with her friend’s prioritizing now, she knew that just a few days into classes she’d be eternally grateful for the habits and talents of her friend. It wasn’t that Torrance was dim witted; she was actually a tad brilliant, in her own regard. But the girl wasn’t really a classroom learner and when she stared at the small printed letters in her textbooks for too long, her head started to hurt. So she needed Lily. Just as Lily needed Torrance to pull her away from the textbooks when her eyes were getting heavy and her hair a bit too messy for a laugh in their dorm that lasted late into the night. They balanced each other out.

Torrance rubbed her eyes with the palms of her hand and muffled a groan when Lily disclosed the classes she had elected to take this term and discovered that Astronomy, by far Torrance’s best and favorite class, did not make Lily’s list. “I’m _sorry_ Tor! But I couldn’t fit it in my schedule! It was either that or Ancient Runes and I’m absolutely _rubbish_ at Astronomy!”

“Yes!” Torrance protested, slamming her palm down on the table. “That’s why I needed you to take it! It’s the only classes _you_ needed _my_ help in. Now I’m going to feel completely and totally insufficient for the rest of the year. I’ll need your help in _every_ class we have together!” 

Lily gently rolled her eyes at her friend's dramatics. It was rare that Torrance slipped into her unfiltered antics outside of the safety of their dorm room. “You’re better in Defense than I am,” she reminded her friend. 

But Torrance was ready to protest this as well. “Only the practical portion. And that’s only because I’ve had to block Rosier’s hexes every month since second year,” she grumbled. “Not every muggle born has a James Potter to protect them from bigoted Slytherins.” 

“Would you stop bringing him up? And he’d hex them for you, too, if he knew about it,” Lily admitted, flushing. Torrance smirked. Sure, Lily put up a big fuss whenever Potter got himself a detention defending her from some prejudiced git, but Lily had quietly admitted to Torrance one night that it was one of the qualities about him she rather admired, no matter how much she insisted she could take care of herself. “He’d never pass up an opportunity to show off,” Lily added, quick to toss in an insult before Torrance’s smirk could turn into something more. 

Their conversation halted at the arrival of Marlene McKinnon, roommate and the ethereal looking blonde of the group. The two girls turned their heads towards her as she took a seat next to Lily. Marlene had this look on her face, lips slightly turned upwards in this little smirk that let Torrance know she was feeling quite pleased with herself. “Where’ve you been?” Torrance asked, greeting her friend after a whole summer apart. 

“Ravenclaw table,” she said quickly, dismissing the question as quickly as she could. “I was just talking to Susan Baker, and you’ll never guess what I just found out,” Marlene said, voice giddy as she struggled to keep it hushed. 

She paused, leaning back and crossing her hands on the table. Lily looked back and forth between Marlene and Torrance before she said, “Well, you plan on telling us or just sitting there?” 

This brought a rather large grin on Marlene’s face. “Noah Brown is going to be our Defense professor. Can you believe it? Noah Brown!” she exclaimed, exhaling like her head was floating above her body. “According to Susan, he should be arriving at the castle before dinner.” 

“Where is Baker getting all this information?” Lily questioned, arms crossed.

“Susan’s boyfriend is Noah’s best mate’s _cousin_.” 

“Don’t you mean _Professor Brown?”_

But Torrance frowned, furrowing her brow together. “Who’s Noah Brown?” 

“You don’t _remember?”_

Lily rolled her eyes for the second time that night. “He was that seventh year Hufflepuff Marlene fancied our first year. Don’t you remember how she cried when he graduated?” 

“I was simply heartbroken,” Marlene started, letting out a sigh and looking strangely forlorn, “you never do forget your first.” 

Torrance snorted. “Not much to remember, though, is there?” 

Marlene’s smirk grew once more. “There will be after this term.” 

“Ew!” Lily exclaimed in disgust, scrunching up her nose and looking at the blonde girl next to her like she had suddenly grown a new head. “Marlene, he’s a _teacher_ now! He’s got to be like what, twenty-five now?” 

She nodded pleasantly. “The perfect age. You know, that’s when they say men reach maturity. Sounds like we might be on the same level.” 

“Speaking of men and maturity,” Torrance interjected, earning the attention of the two girls while her eyes were trained on the entrance of the Great Hall, “there’s that prefect and his mates you were looking for, Lil.”

For a moment, Torrance was vaguely aware of the chattering from Marlene behind her, but her attention was focused solely on the group of four that sauntered towards the Gryffindor table. Particularly, the tallest one, walking with a limp and a fresh looking scar on his neck. 

When Torrance figured out just exactly what Remus Lupin was early on in her third year, she was shocked it wasn’t a well-known fact among her classmates. It was so _obvious_ that when she realized it she felt stupid for not noticing it earlier. He was sick every month, with a new excuse from a stuttering and nervous Peter Pettigrew that hardly made any sense and was always quite different from the stories everyone got later from James Potter or Sirius Black. Lupin always looked tired. He had scars that looked very old and small, similar ones that seemed very new. Even then, as his weight was heavy on his left foot and he half-smiled down at his friends, he looked worse for wear. Cut up and bruised. Torrance felt stupid for not remembering the full moon was just the night before. 

Quickly, almost too quick to notice, Torrance shot a look at Lily. The redheaded girl was quite close with Remus, the two partnered up for class projects and spent hours tucked away in the library studying together. Torrance was nearly sure, almost completely positive, that Lily Evans knew of his secret. And the look on Lily’s face right then and there could’ve confirmed it for her. But still, there was always the chance, the slight possibility, that Lily remained clueless to her friend’s condition. And if that was the case, Torrance wasn’t about to be the one to tell her. Not with a secret that wasn’t hers. Not with one that big. 

Torrance looked back at him once more. Sirius Black was giving him a gentle pat on the shoulder and their laughs echoed down the table. She wondered how he did it. How he could turn into something completely out of his control every month and still smile at friends a day later like nothing happened. She tilted her head, and for a second, just a second, Remus Lupin looked up to meet her stare. He flushed at the eye contact. She didn’t, just turned her head away slowly and sighed. Poor bloke. 

“Well,” Lily said after a moment, “suppose I’ll talk to him later.” 

The three of them lingered in the Great Hall for a while, recounting stories from the summer they couldn’t fit into their letters. Lily had done a fair bit of complaining about her muggle sister’s boyfriend, and how desperately she wished the two of them could’ve come and visited her over the break. Both Marlene and Torrance had neglected to volunteer the information that Lily’s muggle sister and her swarmy git of a boyfriend were exactly the reason both girls had declined Lily’s invitation. The last time they did they were subjected to invasive questioning and dirty looks, but still, they shared a guilty look with each other as Lily recounted her suffering. Marlene’s summer was filled with a ravishing tale about a fleeting romance with a handsome muggle boy in her town that showed her muggle music and was an _excellent_ kisser. Marlene told lots of stories like this and they were probably all less than true. Not that Marlene was a liar, but she was a dreamer. The blonde girl had a dreamy habit of taking the mundane moments in her life and mounding them in her mind to be something much more grand and spectacular. Torrance thought it must be nice to live like that, to think everything to be much more grand than it was. 

By the time it was Torrance’s time to share her summer exploits, they were making their way from the Great Hall to the Gryffindor tower, huddled together and ignoring others that passed by them. Unlike her friends, Torrance didn’t have any exploits to share, besides the fact that her break had been dull. But _all_ of her breaks were dull, as Lily and Marlene very well knew. She told them of how Torrance’s mother missed them very much, as her mother had loved the other two girls like her own daughters after a few summers of long visits. But other than that, Torrance really had nothing to share. The most exciting, story worthy parts of her life happened at school. 

“Did you know there’s a serial killer in America?” Torrance offered as they made their way up to their room. “A muggle one. He leaves little clues in cyphers that are almost impossible to solve and sends them into newspapers and calls himself the Zodiac.” 

Marlene shot Torrance a strange look behind her as she made her way up the stairs. “You’re real weird, you know that, right Tor? Tell me you know.” 

She grinned. “Sure do, Mar.” 

Upon their entrance in their room, their other roommates, Dorcas Meadowes and Mary MacDonald, squealed with pleasure at the sight of their roommates, Dorcas pulling Torrance and Marlene into a hug as Mary did to Lily. All five of them had been sharing their dorm since the first year, and even though Torrance felt close enough with Dorcas and Mary to spend enough of her free time with them, they didn’t really get close until their third year. The year Torrance learned how to be quiet. And she didn’t really blame them, but she didn’t forget it either.

Torrance settled onto the edge of her bed, leaning forward as the summer storytelling started all over again, and her and Lily were subject to hearing about Marlene’s romance once more. Lily gave Torrance a slight smirk ever time there was a new detail or exaggeration that wasn’t there the first time around. 

The night passed on and the room was filled with laughter. Torrance was happy to see the smiles of her friends after a long summer of nothing. Her face rested against her cheek as she giggled. Lily told stories about that darned Vernon, who spent a considerable amount of time boasting around Lily until he was red in the face. Torrance, much to the chagrin of Marlene, recounted details of the American killer she was so fascinated by. At least Dorcas had an appreciation for it, as she hung onto Torrance’s every word and begged for more details. By the time she was done with it, Mary was looking a little green. 

It wasn’t long before Lily had to leave for her prefect duties, commenting that she would probably be back before any of them fell asleep and not to have too much fun without her while she handed out detentions and revoked points on the first night back. Lily would only be gone for a few hours. 

Even with Lily gone, Torrance noted that the atmosphere of the room was far better than it was at the end of last year. When they had packed up their things and head out for the summer at the end of their fifth year, there was always some tense silence between them all, lingering in their room and in the way they talked to each other. No one had argued, really. Just one day, Lily stopped talking and avoiding her friends and everything was just _different._ Torrance was relieved it, whatever it was, had faded away over the break. 

Even though Torrance had told herself that she was going to go to bed before Lily returned, because going from Scotland to London just to go back to Scotland again made her tired. But she found herself in a rather riveting game of Exploding Snap with Marlene that turned into a second, more vindictive game of Exploding Snap with Marlene. So when Lily returned to their dorm, well after midnight, Marlene’s eyebrows were almost burnt off and Torrance had gotten hit in the head with Marlene’s wand when it flung out of her hand more than once. 

Lily flopped into the bed with the third eye roll of the night. 

Classes started sooner than Torrance would’ve liked though, and she didn’t want to admit that Lily was right: sixth year classes _were_ harder. She sat in Charms, pulling on the roots of her hair as she thought about how she was already lost on whatever lecture Flitwick was rambling on about because she was still panicking over the fact that she had absolutely _no_ clue what went on earlier in her Transfiguration class. She was immediately overwhelmed, and regretted taking as many classes as she did. Lily watched as the panic spread through Torrance’s eyes, halfway torn between pity and amusement.

And Transfiguration was the _least_ of her worries, too. Because compared to Potions, Torrance was a Transfiguration whiz. Potions was, by far and undoubtedly, her worst subject. She dreaded it and she dreaded the judgmental eye of Slughorn, who was always eager to compare her to Lily. 

James Potter, however, was eager to see Torrance when she entered that classroom. 

They had been partners in the subject ever since second year, when they were told to pair off among themselves and they had both rushed for Lily, only to be beaten by Severus Snape, much to their dismay. So they unwillingly and unenthusiastically paired up together and brewed some of the worst potions Slughorn had ever seen. This was an embarrassment for Torrance but James wore it like a badge of honor. And even though Torrance was kicking herself for less than favorable grades, she really did have a fun time making those horrid potions. James Potter was one of the only people around that time that didn’t make her feel loud and unwanted. So they stuck together. 

It was a miracle they made it to N.E.W.T level potions together. A miracle, and some less than honorable decisions. 

“Drummond!” the messy-haired boy called out when she walked in a few minutes early, side by side with Dorcas. Torrance, with a soft eye roll, gave her friend a quick ‘see you later,’ and made her way to her usual spot next to James. He grinned at her. “How’s my favorite potions partner doing?” he asked. 

“Definitely not as cheery as you,” she answered easily. “But then again, we can’t all be heirs to a hair potion fortune.” 

James hummed, “My condolences, Drummond.” And then, after a moment, he added with a grin, “I always knew you were jealous of me.” 

Torrance stared ahead. “You’ve got me there, Potter. How was your summer?”

“Very bland,” he said in a thick, performative sounding voice. “Did nothing much but finish up my assignments and keep my arse out of trouble. How about you?” 

“That, but actually true,” Torrance said, eyes flicking around the classroom. Her and James sat in the back corner, further from the door, giving her a good view of everyone else in the room. Lily sat up front, Snape by her side. But there was a considerable distance between them, a chill that reached her. Dorcas and Marlene sat right behind them, shoulders tense. “Lily was looking for you last night.” 

This information made James perk up in his seat. “Really?” 

Torrance shook her head. “No. She was looking for your mate Lupin. But I brought you up a few times, for good measure.” 

He collapsed once more. “You’re cruel, Tor. Unimaginably cruel.” 

“I’m taking Scotland’s vendetta against England out on you.” 

“Well, what did she say?” Torrance shot him a raised brow. “When you brought me up! What did she say?” 

She shrugged. “Usually stuff. You’re always up to something stupid-“ 

“Objectively false.” 

“-and asked me to stop bringing you up. Something or another about your ego, probably accurate. She did say you’d probably hex Evan Rosier for me, though, and I think that’s the closest thing you’ve gotten to a compliment in a while.” Torrance paused, tilting her head, like she was doing calculations in her head. “So compared to last year, and the year before that, based on your number of rejections and the ratio of insults to compliments, I’d say you have, hmm, no chance yet.” 

James groaned. “You know you’re the worst wingman ever, Drummond.” He paused, digesting the information just passed along to him and then he said, “Wait, do I need to hex Evan Rosier for you?” 

Torrance waved off the suggestion, shaking her head like it was a ridiculous idea. “Nah, I’m not scared of him. He hasn’t tried to hex me ever since Lily became a prefect and started getting him in trouble all the time.” 

He stared at her for a moment, contemplating and frozen before he relented and said, “Alright,” and like that, the subject was dropped. 

Slughorn, unfortunately, seemed rather _enthusiastic_ about his N.E.W.T class, seemed to be looking directly at back corner of the room when he said that the course would be _extra_ challenge, and anyone who wasn’t up for that challenge might want to reconsider. James seemed to laugh at the challenge poised by the professor. Torrance, though, had paled. She was definitely reconsidering.

Time dragged on as Torrance went from class to class. It was only the first day of classes and she was feeling as grumpy as she normally did about a month into classes all the other years. Charms was fine, but She was eager to get to Astronomy, eager to get to one of only places she didn’t feel so horrifically insufficient. 

But when she got there, she remembered why it was just another cause for dread. With no Lily or Marlene or Potter or Dorcas or Mary, Torrance would be stuck in the Astronomy Tower alone with a handful of pompous Ravenclaws, all partnered up together while she sat there alone, charting Jupiter’s moons by herself. 

When she reached the top of the tower, books tucked under her arm and a bit of drag in her step, Torrance wasn’t surprised to see mostly blue robes. It was a small class; not many people elected to take Astronomy after their fifth year. There were  _ no  _ Slytherins, though that didn’t surprise Torrance much; she had heard a few mumbles from them about how Astronomy was a useless subject that had a  _ muggle  _ equivalent. There were a handful of Hufflepuffs, and only two other Gryfifndors, Ava Fisher and Remus Lupin. Torrance figured if anyone needed to track the moon, it’d be him. 

Astronomy was much more boring without Lily and Marlene sat by her side, asking her nonstop questions and giggling over hushed nonsense. Instead, Torrance sat her telescope, alone, eye pressed to the glass and watching Venus, sitting up there in the sky all on its own.


	3. chapter two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> remus is too tired for the staring   
> disorder by joy divison

Remus was _aching._

The weight of the moon still weighed down on him. The full moon was just the day before his year began, leaving him little time to recover. Of course, he could’ve stayed in bed down at the Hospital Wing for just one more night, skip dinner and skip his prefect duties. But he wasn’t about to do that. Instead of letting this little problem consume even more of his life than it already did, Remus would push himself. He pushed himself a little too far, though.

The first week of classes had already passed and there was still this lingering pain in his limbs and this exhausting that weighed down on him, heavy on his shoulders and heavy on his eyelids. Remus was all too aware of how clearly this showed on his face, dark bags and sallow skin, bruised and cut up. Of course, he looked like that all time. Sometimes it just looked worse than others. The strares made him tired too. 

It got so bad that Remus found himself losing himself in Transfiguration, eyes fluttering shut as they got too heavy to hold up. He kept forcing his eyes open wider and wider, staring at the brightest ray of sunlight pouring through the windows. Even still, his limbs ached so much that eventually his eyes just closed against his will and the only thing that could wake him up was the feeling of a very thick and very wet worm where his quill used to be. 

His friends were concerned. It was obvious in the way that they kept looking at him with that worried expression, eyebrows turned downward and frowning. But Remus didn’t feel the right to complain to them about it; he knew his long nights kept them from sleeping too. And even though Remus got the worse end of it, he could still see the bags forming under his friends’ eyes.

His body took its time returning to normal, to heal it’s bruises and its cuts and by the time he was feeling completely alive again the first week of six year had came and went. There were, somehow, _many_ letters landing on his lap from his mother the first Saturday of the year, begging him for details on how the full moon went and how he was feeling and if he had gotten into any trouble yet. He only felt a _little_ guilty when he tucked them away under his Charms notes. He reasoned that he’d answer them later. 

It was, all things considered, a rather dull start to the year, considering who his friends were and what he was. But their courses started out heavy, heavy enough to weigh down even the naturally gifted Sirius Black, who always seemed to do well in his classes despite never even really trying.

He was sat across from Remus in the common room, the two of them studying while James and Peter were whispering and giggling with their heads together off in the corner, Charms essays forgotten and halfway finished. It was almost funny, really, watching Sirius with his eyebrow strewn together while his eyes skimmed over the same couple of lines like he was confused over what a book was. “Alright Sirius?” Remus asked, his fingers running alone the edge of the pages of his own book. 

The black-haired boy shook his head, eyes wide as he looked over at his friend. “I dunno how you’ve been doing this all these years. It’s _agonizing.”_

“What’re you even reading?” Lupin asked, leaning back in his seat, abandoning his own book. It was a rare occurrence, but Remus’s mind was just other places and the words on the page weren’t doing what they could to keep him grounded. 

Sirius seemed grateful for the distraction, anyways. “Muggle Studies reading. Did you know that they have these things called floppy disks?” 

Remus titled his head. “Floppy disk?” 

And just as Sirius opened his mouth to explain, James Potter shouted over to them, “Sirius knows a thing or two about a floppy disk.” 

The nearest pillow was in Sirius’s grasp for just a second before it was flung in the center of James’s face. “Oh, shut it, would you? What are you two even gabbering on about over there?” 

Peter supplied this answer. “Just trying to think of the best way to turn the Slytherin common room into a swamp. “I think it would be a more fitting atmosphere for them.” 

Sirius rolled his eyes. “Oh, that’s simple. Throw the invisibility cloak over Moony and make him stand by the door until someone opens it and when he sneaks it, boom, done. It’s a swamp.” 

“Why are you always making me do it?” Remus mumbled, knowing he would probably end up doing it anyways. He just wouldn’t admit until they had pulled it off and all the green robes were weighed down by swamp water that it was brilliant.

“It’s a compliment, Moony,” Peter said.

“Yeah,” Sirius agreed, “you’re the best in Transfiguration, and Minnie thinks I’m a baboon.” 

Remus rolled his eyes and turned his attention back to his Astronomy book, reading the passage he left off on, completely lost. “You’ve left quite an impression on her.” 

“My bride to be,” Sirius mused. 

Time was going too fast for Remus. It was amazing, really, how fast time could go when he had several deadlines handing over his head. Remus felt like he would blink and he had something new he had to hand over to an expectant professor. It was maddening, and he wished he had some sort of way to turn back time to stop himself from enrolling in Astronomy. It was cruel, really, that the night sky found a way to torment him _outside_ of the full moon. 

His brain was fried.

Still, he fell into a routine easily. Remus would go to his classes and take his notes, hardly even thinking as he scribbled down whatever came out of his professors’ mouths. He’d camp out at the library, trying to get his work done for as long as his friends let him before they wanted to plot some dungbombs around or plan for their new land development in the dungeons. He’d do his Prefect rounds with Lily, who seemed as distracted and overwhelmed as him. That, at least, was reassuring. If the brightest girl in their year was already drowning, he had an excuse. 

With his hand pressed up against his cheek, Remus stared blankly at the plate of half-eaten food in front of him. He couldn’t decide if he was just too tired to be hungry or that was genuinely big enough of a dinner. It sat uneasy in his stomach. He couldn’t wait for the weekend.

“What do you think then, Moony?” 

The sound of his name made him flinch. He looked around, wide-eyed and blank, at the expectant faces of his friends. “Huh?” Remus questioned, head spinning. Was he drooling? He wiped the corner of his mouth with his sleeve.

James Potter gave an easy eye roll. “He wasn’t listening. He’s never listening. Were you listening?” 

Remus shook his head. “No. Of course not.” 

“Sirius thinks he could get any girl in our year in a broom closet if he wanted,” Peter offered as an explanation from his spot next to Remus. “Been bragging about for a while now, actually.” 

“I think he’s wrong,” James interjected. “Don’t you think he’s wrong?” 

“No. I _know_ he's wrong,” Remus replied, and then turned to look at his grinning friend. Sirius was insatiable, in the most annoying kinds of ways sometimes. “You’re not as smooth as you make yourself out to be, Padfoot.” 

The accusation made Sirius’s face light up in shock. He didn’t even have the decency to be offended. “I’m smooth! Irresistible, even. Girls love me!” 

“No. Girls _loved_ you,” James explained, “but then you started snogging every girl who paid you attention, and now they all think you’re gross.” 

Remus nodded, picking up his plate and nudging around the remaining food on his plate. He hated peas. “You’ve snogged all the girls you could. Now you’re dry.” 

Sirius looked back and forth between his friends like there was something wrong with _them._ He snorted. “Name one girl, one girl right now and I bet I could get her in a broom closet by the end of the day. Go.” 

“Evans,” Peter supplied, sniggering. 

James’s face grew dark for a moment. “Watch it.” 

“I’m not cruel, Wormy. I’d never do that to James.” 

“More like _Lily_ would never do that to you,” Remus quipped, mostly to his plate, but earned a round little pea to the forehead from Sirius anyways.

It was James’s turn. “Jane Armstrong.” 

“Already snogged her. Fourth year, right before Christmas.” 

“Betty Harris,” Peter went again. 

“She’s ugly!” 

“She’s not that bad,” Remus mumbled, something reminiscent of guilt in his gut. 

“Alright then, you go gnaw on her face.” 

Remus hesitated, and then gave Sirius a very straight face when he said, “Betty Harris is a very nice girl,” but he knew he had lost his argument there. 

“Oh, right, how could I forget the most important factor when talking about which girls you want to jump your bones? How _nice_ they are.” 

James raised a hand to Sirius’s forehead and gave a hard flick to the center of it. “You know you can be a bit of a pig, sometimes” 

“Most people say _dog_.”

Remus ignored him. It was his turn. He bit down on the bottom of his lip, looking around the Great Hall for a moment. “Drummond.” 

This made Sirius quirk an eyebrow. “Drummond?” 

Remus shrugged. “You don’t stand a chance with her.” 

“You really don’t mate,” James cautioned, giving Sirius a rather skeptical look. If anyone would know, it’d be James. 

But Sirius had been presented with a challenge, and it wasn’t in his nature to turn a challenge down. He stood from his spot, tossing the three of them a dashing grin before he walked over to his target. 

Remus never really thought about Torrance Drummond. Torrance Drummond, Remus realized as he stared, didn’t really seem like Sirius’s type. Sirius liked fun girls, who laughed loud at Hogsmeade trips and cheered the loudest at Quidditch games. He liked girls that were _stunning._ Girls that gave him a lot of competition. And it wasn’t that Drummond was _ugly._ No, Remus thought after a long hard look, she was actually very pretty. But it was a funny sort of pretty. Like it didn’t hit you straight away. Like you had to look at her twice. But that wasn’t what Sirius liked. Not to mention, Remus was pretty positive he’d only heard her talk maybe three times since their second year. 

Even as Sirius approached her, the three of his friends watching with bated breath, she was giving Mary MacDonald a slight and unamused smirk. She watched Sirius with bored eyes as he stood in front of her. 

“Hi,” he mused, voice smooth and Remus couldn’t help but notice, a bit lower than it naturally was. 

Torrance’s eyes flicked over to Mary and then back at Sirius. “Not interested,” she clipped. Peter snorted into his pumpkin juice. 

Remus wished he had bet money on it, but the look on Sirius’s face was payment enough in itself. “Excuse me?”

“I said I’m not interested,” the girl repeated, simply and with a note of finality. But when Sirius said nothing, just looking back and forth between him and his mates, she continued, “What, do you think I’m deaf? Your mates are literally listening right now, you think I couldn’t hear you lot from over here?” She paused, and tossed the group of boys a look that made Peter and Remus straighten up in their seats, blushing. James just tossed her a wave. “Potter.” 

“Hello Torrance.” He turned towards Remus and Peter and said, “We’re friends.” 

Sirius stumbled. He was floored; Remus could see her words turning around in his head. Sure, Sirius had been rejected before, but never so bluntly and never so _quickly._ The disbelief was clear in his raised brows and parted lips. He staggered, thrown off his game. “Um, so, well if it weren’t for that-“

Torrance shook her head. “Go wash your hair, Sirius” she said, turning her attention away from him and back to a giggling Mary. 

Sirius returned to his friends with an entirely different disposition. “Well, I think that maybe, just a little bit, I deserved that.” 

Remus rolled his eyes, trying to ignore the stare he felt against the side of his face. He knew where it was coming from and that it wasn’t the first time, and he couldn’t help but wonder why Torrance Drummond had taken a particular interest in his scars. 

The wonder didn’t fade away. 

Remus thought about the first night back, when she was looking at him, bold and unashamed with a blank face and something unreadable in his eyes. He thought of how he looked away but she didn’t. He didn’t know anything about her. He knew that she was in a fair few of his classes and that she was James’s potions partner and she was in the same dorm as Lily. The redheaded girl sometimes told Remus stories about her, stories that seemed largely contrasted to the girl who wore a scowl on her face in all her classes and never once opened her mouth so much as to ask a question. It made sense he never noticed her; she didn’t do anything to be noticed. 

But now she was staring at his scars and it made him red in the face. 

And honestly, it was starting to annoy him. Remus filled his mind up with theories about what she was thinking. He imagined her morbid fascination with them, thinking of the scenarios she must have come up with in her head to explain them. He imagined her disgust and the way she would pale and scream if she ever actually knew. And every single time he caught her staring at him, he imagined himself, a bolder version of himself, storming up to her and demanding to know what it was she thought she was looking at. Like Sirius would. Like James would. But every time he tried to, something inside him froze up, and he panicked, resigning to purse his lips and think himself to death. 

No matter how many times Remus caught her staring, Remus noticed, Torrance Drummond never backed down. She never blushed and she never looked away. Just tilted her head and kept something in her eyes that he couldn’t decipher.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> let me know what you think! i think this chapter is a little shorter than i anticipated but we're just getting started.


	4. chapter three

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> torrance tracks the moon  
> rudie can't fail by the clash

Sunlight poured down on Torrance, warmth sinking into her skin. Orange spread behind her closed eyelids and grass tangled in her hair. It was one of those rare days where summer heat lingered over the school grounds and Torrance could pretend that there wasn’t a heap of homework waiting for her back at the dorm.

She had a pair of bell bottoms on, the denims one she had begged her mother to buy her at the beginning of the summer. They were worn to death and the bottom hems were stuck underneath the soles of her canvas shoes, muddied and ripped. But they made her feel cool, lying there with her head in Mary’s lap by the Great Lake, thoughts empty of any anxieties she had left back at the castle. She wasn’t sure how long they had been there, but they hadn’t talked for a while. Mary was the only person she could do this with. All her other friends liked to talk too much. 

Mary had her back against the tree. Occasionally Torrance would open her eyes and see her dark-haired friend smiling at the sight of the water gently rocking against the shore, her friends working tiny braids into Torrance’s hair. “Uh-oh,” Mary mumbled, “here comes trouble.” 

With great reluctance, Torrance opened her eyes to the bright sunlight, squinting and sitting up, disgruntled and annoyed. Tumbling down the hill towards their hidden spot, shrieking with laughter, was Marlene and Dorcas. Torrance gave a good natured eye roll as the plopped down by her side. “Guess what Sirius Black and his lot managed to pull off today?” Marlene asked with a grin, tossing Torrance a packet of jelly slugs. She perked up. 

“Surely something childish that cost us dozens of house points,” Mary guessed. 

“Turned the Slytherin common room into a swamp,” Dorcas explained, resting her head in the spot where Torrance was just before they arrived. “Pretty brilliant, if you ask me. Slughorn nearly lost his head trying to turn it back.” 

Marlene rested her head on Torrance’s shoulder as she tore into her candies. “That’s not even the best part. They all had to drudge through it this morning and they all got soaked in swamp water. Easy enough to dry yourself off, but that stench was murder. Stuck to their clothes.” 

Torrance broke out into a large grin, jelly hanging from between her teeth. “Boss.” She quite liked the idea of Mulciber and Rosier and Snape walking around with heavy wet robes that reeked like a foul marsh.  _ Who’s the mudblood now,  _ she thought to herself. 

“Lily wasn’t having it though,” Dorcas mused, upside down and eyes raised towards her friends. “She yelled Potter’s ear off.” 

Mary snorted. “What does Lily care about a bunch of sopping Slytherins?” 

“She’s friends with Snape,” Marlene explained. “You know that.” 

There was a beat of silence. Mary and Torrance shared a look, eyebrows raised. They were both secretly ecstatic at the idea that the slimy Slytherin wouldn’t be a part of Lily’s life anymore, sharing giddy whispers about how it was exactly what Snape deserved and exactly what Lily owed them and herself. Torrance remembered all the tears Mary had shed over the boy, and could still feel whatever hex he cast on her that left her face puffy and stingy. It seemed that Lily was the  _ only  _ muggle-born that wasn’t on Snape’s list. “Thought they were fighting?” Torrance questioned. “Weren’t they fighting last year, and that’s why we were all miserable?” 

With her lips pursed, Marlene said, “Not anymore. Alas, friends once more.” 

A groan fell from Torrance lips. She didn’t know what the two had fought about last year, but she knew it was severe enough to keep them apart all summer, and she was  _ utterly  _ convinced that something that bad was something they couldn’t come back from.

There was something biting in Mary’s tone when she said. “Funny thing to see a muggle-born latch onto a Death Eater like that. What excuse do you think Lily will come up with when Snape gets a dark mark?”

Torrance narrowed her eyes at Mary. “Right, let’s not go gossiping about her behind her back then, yeah?” 

Marlene and Dorcas were still; tense and uncomfortable. Neither one was eager to jump into this discussion; they were the only two of their little group that weren’t muggle-born. They knew better than to get themselves involved. 

“Oh, come off it, Torrance. You know Snape’s a git and Lily’s thick for giving him the time of day.”

“Why don’t you tell her that, then? What am I to do about it?” Torrance snapped back. Mary flinched at Torrance’s words, recognizing the thorny yet rare tone. Torrance stood. 

“Where are you going?” Marlene asked. 

“Suppose I have to make sure Lily’s alright,” she murmured. “I’ll see you lot later.” 

It wasn’t Torrance’s intention to lie to them. She really  _ did  _ mean to seek out Lily and to make sure she was okay. But she got distracted easily, watching the portraits on the walls have mindless chatter with one another, sometimes even commenting on her muggle attire and how distasteful her jeans looked, which earned a cheeky smirk from Torrance. Her purposefully strutting had turned into mindless wandering, occasionally checking empty classrooms to them to be just that,  _ empty.  _

She was thinking of all the things she could say to Lily and all of the things she would have to say to Mary later on. Torrance knew she’d have to apologize, because Mary was right, and she’d have to admit it eventually. But there was something slithery in her tone that set her on edge. Something was sinking in Torrance’s gut. She took a turn to avoid the dungeons. 

Torrance used to take walks like that when she was younger, before she got really close with her dorm mates. When she felt like the only person in the entire castle who didn’t know what they were doing and didn’t feel like they belonged. She would take in the small amazments that she now took for granted, like the way the staircases would jerk and knock you over before they switched up their paths, or the doors that seemed to shift and twist and contort for seemingly no reason. They would last her hours; sometimes she’d find herself out of bed after curfew and getting a fair few points knocked off whenever she got caught. 

Eventually, her wandering through the castle led her to the library, where Torrance had decided that if Lily wasn’t there, she had gone off to someplace she didn’t want to be found. Torrance wasn’t surprised to find the library almost empty, save a few students who were entrenched in their work and didn’t even notice as Torrance poked her head around. There was no sight of the redheaded girl. 

Torrance groaned, slumping against a bookshelf for a moment and earning an ire-filled glare from Madam Pince, who was very open in her hatred for Torrance. She gave the older woman a very sour smile before she left. 

It wasn’t until she barged through the common room door, tired and defeated and grumpy about spending half of a nice day wandering the halls, that Torrance realized she was pretty dense for not checking the common room first. 

Lily sat in a puffy arm chair, knees tucked up to her chest as book close to her face. She didn’t look up when Torrance took a seat in the seat opposite her. “Good book?” Torrance asked.

“”S alright?” Lily replied, gently closing her book and resting it on the top of her knees. “Thought you were out by the lake?” 

Torrance shrugged. “Just wanted to come and make sure you didn’t use an Unforgivable on Potter. I’m hopeless at Potions without him. Actually, I’m pretty useless at Potions with him. That reminds me, can I borrow your notes?” 

She let out a breathy chuckle. “Sure, later. And Potter’s fine. Just a gruler.” 

With careful eyes, Torrance watched Lily. She watched the way her fingers tapped against the cover of her book and the way the corner of her mouth twitched. “You and Snape talking again?” 

Lily sighed, not meeting Torrance’s eye. “I know you don’t like him, Tor,” she stared. “He’s not that bad, really, when you get to know him.” 

“Maybe I’ll try to get to know him if he ever stops calling me a mudblood.” Lily opened her mouth to protest, but Torrance cut her off. “Lily, I know you think he’s sweet, but he’s only sweet to you. The bloke’s really, unbelievably cruel to everyone else. Especially your friends.” 

Lily opened her mouth to respond, closed it again and shook her head. “I think he has the potential to change.” 

Torrance decided right then that she wasn’t in the mood to argue. Today, she would save herself the headache. “Whatever you say, Lil. Just be lucky it was me who said something, not Mary. She’s up in arms.” 

Lily didn’t pick her book back up, but she didn’t say anything to Torrance. She just sat there, hands folded over her knees and eventually, Torrance decided there was nothing left to say, so she left. She was thinking about what she could knick from the kitchen. 

The month continued on and it seemed neither Mary or Lily were inclined to open up another discussion. There were quick and embarrassed apologies between Mary and Torrance, taking the form in rushed sentences and a hug that Torrance thought lasted just a little too long. She was grateful, though, that there were no lingering issues between the two. And even though Lily was spending more and more time with Snape, everyone had just decided that they didn’t notice.

It was amazing to Torrance how quickly she fell behind in her classes. She found herself getting lost in lectures, unable to keep track of whatever her professors were going on about; Torrance was surviving off the notes of her friends, and even those were giving her headaches. And of course, she didn’t help herself whenever she put off her assignments until the last minute, electing to rewrite the Astrology section of the Daily Prophet (because they  _ always  _ got it wrong) while she listened to muggle records she snuck in her trunk. 

Studying with her friends didn’t help. Whenever she ended up huddling over parchments with Marlene or Dorcas, she found herself forty-minutes deep in a story about some Huffelpuff. Lily was more of a help, but she always reserved a table in the library for her and Snape, and Torrance didn’t have the energy to pretend she didn’t hate him. And Mary, well Mary could be just as hopeless as her. 

Torrance huddled up in the corner of the library, feet kicked up on the table in front of her, hidden from the stink eye of Madam Pince. There was an essay due in the morning and she’d had yet to even grasp the concept, nevermind start on her parchment. She could’ve said she was reading, but really she was just staring at the same passage about human transfiguration. The passage brought back a memory of Torrance in her first year, loudly and aggressively protesting against McGonagall transforming a gerbil into a goblet.  _ It’s animal abuse!  _ Torrance had yelled until she had fat tears in her eyes. Her face was red at the memory, and the nasty snickering from other students was echoing in her ears.

“Hi.” 

Torrance’s head shot up at the voice that interrupted her thoughts. Remus Lupin was standing in front of her, looking down at her like he’d rather be anywhere else. She could see the reluctance in the way his eyes kept moving around the library and how he shifted his feet around. Lupin was looking worse for wear, skin hollow and yellow. She arched an eyebrow at him, thinking that maybe he was about to ask her why he kept catching her staring at him. She wracked her brain for a lie. 

He careened his head around, like he was looking for an excuse to leave. “I was um,” he started, tapping his foot against the carpet, “I was wondering if you could help me with my Astronomy work?” Torrance stared up at him blankly. His face reddened. “Erm, Lily said you were brilliant and I’ve, uh, falling pretty behind.” After a moment of hesitation and heavy contemplation, Torrance gestured to the seat across from her. “Thanks.” 

Torrance was immediately uncomfortable at his presence. She liked the silence and the isolation and now she was stuck next to a boy she knew too much about. It made her feel strange, to sit with someone she barely knew when she knew the one thing he’d probably never want her to find out. She’d been fixated on him lately, too, feeling some type of mix of curiosity and pity. She was fixated on the scars that marred his face, the way he looked healthier when the moon was waxing as opposed to waning, the way the transformations aged him.

Torrance realized a little too late that she had waited too long to say something and Lupin was giving her an expectant look. 

“When’s your birthday?” she asked, tone neutral. 

He furrowed his brows together like it took him a lot of concentration to remember the date. “Oh, um, March tenth. Nineteen-sixty.” 

“Ech.” Torrance scrunched up her nose, tossing her book back on the table. March tenth. What a horrid birthday. 

“Is-is that a problem?” he asked, taken back. 

She shrugged. “I guess that depends on who you ask.” 

“I’m asking you.” 

“Then it’s a problem,” she replied easily, placing her hands on the table and leaning towards him. “You’re a Pisces.” 

“I’m not really asking you to do the work for me.” 

“You didn’t already know that?” 

Lupin blinked, ears turning red. It took Torrance a moment to realize she had offended him. “Sorry,” she offered. “How much have you charted so far?” 

With a shake of his head, Lupin reached down into his bag for his assignment, and Torrance didn’t miss the markings on the crook of his neck. He sat up, handing her a near blank page. Torrance watched him tilt his head down and she knew she embarrassed him. She didn’t tell him that the only placement he plotted was wrong. He’d figure it out later. “It’s really quite simple,” she told him, “once you get the hang of it. The stars don’t often change.” 

She felt his eyes on her as she dug around her bag for her Astronomy text. “I’m, uh, I’m sorry to bother you with this. I know you don’t like,” he paused, rubbing his hands together. Torrance stared at him with a critical eye. “I know you don’t talk to many people.” 

“I don’t mind,” she lied simply, tossing her book between the two of them. 

Lupin nodded, rocking slightly in his chair. “Sorry about Sirius by the way,” he said again, suddenly. 

Torrance stared at him for a long time before she said, “S’alright.” She didn’t want to get into it with him. The incident embarrassed her more than she wanted to let on. “Here,” she said, pushing her open book towards him, “once you get your birth time and location, just follow this pattern here. It can get a little confusing, so just let me know if you get stuck.” 

Lupin got stuck  _ several  _ times, sometimes over the same thing. And Torrance was surprised to realize that she wasn’t really bothered to explain it to him again. 

It didn’t take long for Remus to figure it out, just less than an hour. It was awkward, the conversation between the two of them. Torrance didn’t know how to talk to him, and she couldn’t push her knowledge of him out of her head. He left her with several thanks that she just nodded to, and the promise to help her with any subject she needed help with, except Potions. 

Remus Lupin, Torrance decided, was strange. 

She stared at the back of his head in Defense on the night of the full moon just a few days later. His shoulders were slumped and his jaw was locked and Peter Pettigrew had inched away from him. 

Marlene yawned, loudly and not even attempting to cover it, tearing Torrance’s attention away from Lupin. Marlene’s eyes were even fluttering shut. Torrance watched her with a bemused expression, raising her hands to Marlene’s face and clapping them together with as much force as she could muster. Her palms were stinging by the way Marlene jumped up in her seat, eyes flung open, was worth it. “Wha-,” she let out, looking around for a moment before Torrance’s laughter grounded her. “Shut it, Drummond.” 

“What’s gotten into you anyways?” Torrance inquired, crossing her arms and leaning back in her seat. “You’re usually always eager to stare at Professor Bon-Bon.”

Marlene flushed red. Her fascination with their Defense professor had only grown with every lesson. Torrance didn’t think there was anything special about him, and she really didn’t like that his lesson plan was so lecture heavy, hardly practical at all. “Potter’s gone insane,” she explained. “Has us practicing at five in the bloody morning twice a week. My arm’s about ready to fall off.” 

“Not before you become the sexiest beater in the history of Quidditch.” 

Marlene whacked the side of Torrance’s arm. “Stop flirting with me, Tor, or I might just have to marry you.” 

Torrance batted her eyes in this big dramatic fashion. “Professor Bon-Bon will be heartbroken. At least he can avoid Azkaban for another year. Or at least getting sacked.” 

Marlene crumpled up a bit of parchment and tossed it at Torrance’s nose. 

“McKinnon! Drummond! Do you have something you’d like to share with the class?” 

Torrance struggled to contain her giggles as Marlene turned redder than a beet. “No, sir.” 

Marlene chewed Torrance out for that. Though Torrance really couldn’t hear it over her own laughter. 

That night, Torrance found herself in the Astronomy tower, charting the planets and their placements. The air was brisk and seeped into the deepest layers of her skin, thin sweater doing little to protect her. 

She was watching the moon, bright and white hang in the sky in the sign of Aries. Torrance had developed a real talent for scribbling down on her parchment while her face was pressed to the cool metal of her telescope. Her hand moved without her thinking about it. 

Astronomy had been her best class since first year. She took to it easy. Astronomy existed outside of Hogwarts; the stars hung above her head at home in Scotland the same that they did in the castle. Torrance felt a sort of comfort in the stars that she never really felt with anything else. They weren’t complicated, easy to read and easy to pick out of the night sky. Easy to pick them out of the sky and leave them on her parchment, to fold up and keep in her pocket. 

For a moment, Torrance pulled her eye away from the moon and looked down onto the grounds, right at the edge, where the Forbidden Forest just began. The treeline was vast and dark and Torrance wanted to look further in there. She wanted to see what was dancing between the trees. She wanted to mark it down on her parchment and keep it in her pocket. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you guys for reading! i hope you are enjoying it so far. please let me know what you think!
> 
> p.s: i know there’s a difference between astrology and astronomy, but for the sake of my own self interest im imagining the curriculum as a blend of the two, because i think astrology would be important in magic and a lot of wizards would rlly value it. i’m thinking to them it would be a blend between divination and astronomy. maybe i’m wrong but hey.


	5. chapter four

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> bloody noses and candy  
> this is radio clash by the clash

Remus leaned forward, elbows on his knees and wind whipping his face. There were a few groups of people scattered around the stands of the Quidditch pitch, though few looked as disinterested as Remus felt. He didn’t really care for the sport, and sitting there watching James trying to conduct a practice was one of the last things he wanted to be doing. And every time he opened his textbook up to get some reading done, the wind slammed it shut again. He was resigned to listen to Peter and Sirius ramble on about strategies and Seekers and skills. Remus didn’t feel like following along. 

There was some point in his life that Remus would’ve pretended that he cared about the sport or even knew what he was looking at during practices, when he was younger and skinnier and unsure. When pretending to be more like James or Sirius took up half of his energy and he thought that if he stopped he’d be stuck on his own. It was a relief to realize, maybe sometime after the tenth full moon they stayed up all night for, that he would have a much harder time getting rid of them. And it was an added bonus to have to stop pretending to care about Quidditch. 

Numbness spread from the tips of his fingers to the bones at his wrist. He didn’t quite understand the reason James had pleaded with him to attend his practices, but he did. And Remus agreed. He usually did. 

“C’mon, Potter, move your arse,” Peter murmured, kneading his hands together like he was nervous for whatever outcome he was preparing for. Remus couldn’t imagine how severe it could be during a practice. 

“It’s not his fault,” Sirius countered, hands folded under his chin. “McKinnon’s not hitting the bludger as hard as she normally does. Letting it get the better of her.” Sirius paused, and looked over at his silent friend. “What do you think of all this, Moony?” 

Remus sighed, putting his hand to his chin. “Well, it seems that the beaters certainly are beating. But you have to ask yourself, Sirius, at a certain point when do the beatings stop being beatings and start being a pounding?”

“And what, pray tell, is the difference between a beating and a pounding?” 

“Why don’t you ask your mum, Pettigrew? Reckon she’s had a fair few demonstrations.” 

“Oi, shut it Black!” 

“Yeah, Padfoot, you know better than to go off on someone’s mother. Mrs. Potter would have you strung out by your toes.” 

Sirius grinned and gave a roll of his eyes, but he didn’t say anything. Remus was sure that if he were James or Peter, there would have been some clever remark for him in store. But Sirius had a newly developed habit of being gentle with Remus. It was annoying, really, and every time Sirius retreated like that Remus was reminded of why. He thought about telling him off, but he didn’t want to open that wound again.

They had only started talking again in August, and it took a lot to get there. 

A cloud of smoke floated up into the air, getting whipped away from the cigarette it came from by the unforgiving wind. Torrance Drummond sat a few rows in front of them, cigarette between her fingers and her head on Dorcas Meadows. Remus frowned. He hated the smell. 

Peter shoved an elbow into Sirius. “Bloody hell, where is she getting fags from?” 

“Why don’t you ask her?” Sirius replied with a shrug. He had learned his lesson about Torrance, and from the way Peter kept his mouth shut, it seemed that he had too.

The practice dragged on for a while, flooded with non-stop commenting and an envying for Torrance’s cigarettes. And when it was over, James met them on the grass and threw his sweaty arm over Peter’s shoulder. “I’m feeling good about this year, mates. Got the cup under my belt already, I think.” 

They trudged back up to the castle, listening to James’s extensive recap of what they just watched, as the Slytherin team was heading down towards the pitch, looking slick and mean, with their scowls and set jaws and straight ahead stares. Sirius tensed up, keeping his head forward, but Remus caught how his eyes flickered over to the Slytherin seeker, who didn’t spare him a second glance. 

And when they were gone and out of sight, Sirius gave a smile that didn’t meet his eyes, his mind elsewhere. 

* * *

Peter shook his head, looking down at the bubbling gray mush in their cauldron. “I dunno what you did, Remus. This is a mess.” 

The taller boy tugged at his hair for a moment, headache creeping in from the sides. “I followed the instructions,” he insisted, “I read them twice and did everything right, I know I did.” 

Peter shuffled around ingredients and tools until he found the bookmarked page in his Potions text. “Add two pieces of ginger root, I did that, add the armadillo bile?” 

Remus nodded. “I did that.” 

“Mix in the beetles until red.” 

“Did that.” 

“Mix in armadillo bile again until yellow.” 

Remus paused, looking down at the potion with a blank expression. “I did not do that.” 

Peter sighed, looking between the potion and his friend. “Maybe next time you prep the ingredients and I’ll brew it, yeah?” 

“Yeah,” Remus agreed, nodding, “that might be a better idea.” 

Stirring the potion a few times, Peter scrunched his nose up. “More of a dunce potion, less of a wit-sharpening one, I reckon.” He dropped his wand, and let out a little bit of a groan. Guilt twisted up in Remus’s gut. The one class Peter really excelled at and Remus was mucking it up for him. 

Defeated, Remus slumped down in his chair. The sound of laughter caught his attention, and he twisted around to see James and Torrance, chortling over a potion that looked even worse than theirs. She watched the cauldron, tossing in a seemingly random amount of beetles, with the corner of her mouth upturned, a glint in her eyes that Remus had never really seen before. “Just keep going with those until it’s purple, Drummond,” James encouraged, grinning, “We’ll get there eventually.” She flicked one of the beetles at him. He didn’t remember them being such good friends.

Remus turned back around. He felt pretty witless. 

* * *

There was a routine that Remus developed, and there wasn’t much that deviated from it. He woke up early, earlier than Sirius and Peter but never earlier than James, and was already halfway done with his breakfast by the time everyone else made their way to the Great Hall. He spent hours holed up in the library, sometimes alone, sometimes with company. A lot of people asked him for help, and he never really had the heart to say no. Remus always left early enough, though, to find himself lounging about the common room.

“I’m bored.” 

Remus looked up from the History of Magic work in his lap for just a moment. Sirius was lying on his bed, tossing a Quaffle up in the air and catching it just before it slammed back into his nose. Remus snickered. “You should do your homework then.”

“I’m not _that_ bored,” Sirius insisted.

“Well why don’t you go do something instead of bothering me, so I can do _my_ homework?” 

Sirius caught the Quaffle, tucked it under his arm and turned on his side. He stared his friend down with a look in his eye that Remus had grown to be suspicious of. “Do you wanna go to Honeydukes?” 

Remus paused, quill pausing on the parchment. He _could_ have stayed and finished revising, and he figured he ought to, but he _was_ running dangerously low on chocolate frogs. “I mean, sort of.” 

“Come on, let’s go then!” Sirius exclaimed, shooting up from his spot on the bed and rushing to stuff his feet into his boots. “We’ve hardly done anything interesting this year and I think if I go on one more second with this boredom, I’m going to wither away into dust.”

Despite his eye roll, Remus tossed his work to the end of his bed. “You’re so dramatic.” 

“You can tell it to the crowd that gathers at my funeral after I die in fifty-seconds.” 

“Whatever, let’s go.” 

Sirius gave him a brilliant grin. “Cheers. _”_

After a fair bit of arguing, they decided to forgo waiting Peter and James (who had independently decided to litter the corridors with some timed dungbombs, just to drum up some excitement), and therefore forgo taking James’s cloak. “It’s not like I can fit under it anymore anyways,” Remus argued. He barely fit under doorways anymore.

A shiny (non-silver) prefect pin was bright against Remus’s robes. He didn’t like flashing the bloody thing around, and he felt like a bit of snob whenever he did. But it was a pretty good defense whenever he was caught sneaking around after curfew. Sirius clutched the map, watching Filch’s name hover around the Hufflepuff common room. “Brilliant,” Sirius murmured, eyes fixated on the map. “Let’s go.” 

The common room was bustling; first years in a heated chess tournament, a group of seventh year girls stretching out by the fireplace, some fifth years playing a punk record in the corner. No one noticed Remus and Sirius rushing towards the door. 

Neither one of them were looking when they walked through the portrait hole. They were watching the map with a keen eye, keeping track of any authoritative figures that were in range to wonder by the one-eyed witch statue. Remus was insisting that the best place to wait out would be the empty classroom nearby when someone slammed into him. He staggered, narrowing his eyes at the girl whose head bounced off of his chest, clutching her nose as blood rushed out between her fingers, head tilted down so he couldn’t see her eyes. “Torrance?” he asked, recognizing the Scottish girl after a moment. 

“Bloody hell, Drummond, what happened to you?” Sirius questioned, leaning forwards towards her. “You alright?” 

She didn’t look up, and the blood kept coming. “Bugger off,” she murmured. 

Remus didn’t know why, but he reached for her. Torrance flinched away from his hand. “Are you alright?” he repeated Sirius’s question, leaning down closer to her eye-level. And even though she was covering her face, he could see her cheeks were a deep red. 

“Oi, you’re blocking the door!” someone in the common room yelled. 

“Oh, shut it!” Sirius yelled back.

Remus stared down at Torrance. “Lily’ll fix it,” she said simply, and that was enough for Remus to step to the side, giving her the room to pass. Torrance rushed past the both of them without so much of a thanks or a glance in their direction. 

There was a small stain of her blood on Remus’s prefect badge. He smudged it off with the end of his sleeve.

“What do you reckon that was about?” Sirius asked sometime later, the two of them making their way through the damp and wet tunnel.

“What, with Torrance?” 

“Yeah.” 

Remus shrugged. “I dunno. She’s muggle-born, and looked like was alone. Probably got cornered by Snape or Mulciber or something.” 

It was dark down there, but Remus swore he could see Sirius flinch at his reply. “She shouldn’t be wandering around alone, then. I’ll tell James to talk to her.” 

“What’s James gonna do? He’s not her nanny.” 

There was a little bit of an edge to Sirius’s voice when he said, “It’s not safe for people who aren’t purebloods to be alone in the castle anymore. She’s allowed her pride, but she shouldn’t be stupid about it.” 

Remus didn’t have much to say to that, he just nodded. They didn’t talk about Torrance anymore. 

The trip down the tunnel didn’t seem as long as it did when they were kids. It used to feel endless, winding and deep and mysterious. Remus could’ve sworn that when he first found this tunnel when he was eleven, it took him hours to get to the end of it. But it took him and Sirius just a quick twenty minutes to end up below Honeydukes, pushing up the door and reaching their stock. 

The shared hushed laughter as they stuffed their bags with sweets, Remus grabbing as many chocolate frogs he could fit in his bag, along with some Cauldron cakes and sugar quills, while Sirius opted for some licorice wands and candyfloss. And by the end of it, they had enough candy to get them through to Christmas, with a clattering pile of galleons left on the steps of Honeydukes cellar. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> a bit of a short chatper. i find it more difficult to write in remus's point of view, but it'll be important, especially later on in the story. please let me know what you think! i love getting feedback and it makes it a lot easier to write !!!!!


	6. chapter five

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> torrance doesn't think  
> this charming man by the smiths

“I’ve decided to become a vegetarian,” Torrance declared suddenly on a Monday evening, picking up her plate and sliding off the pieces of half-eaten chicken onto Marlene’s plate. The blond girl looked astonished at the extra food at her plate, squinting down at the meat. Torrance replaced it with a large sweet potato. 

Lily blinked. “What?” 

Torrance was tearing into her meat-free dinner now, and tossed Lily a shrug. “I think it’s nasty.” 

“You were just eating it a second ago,” Marlene reminded her, like this was something Torrance had forgotten. “Like you’ve been eating it your whole life. What changed?” 

“Ah dinnae ken.” 

“English, please, Torrance,” Lily said, sweetly, even though her words were met with a glare. 

Torrance straightened up, scrunching up her nose and rolling back her shoulders. “Oh, my dearest apologies,” she said in her best attempt at Queen’s English, “I do not know, for I, a very simple woman from a very simple land, I have not put much forethought into it.” Marlene giggled. Lily rolled her eyes.

“ _Anyways,”_ Marlene interjected, leaning forward towards her friends. “I have two _very_ exciting pieces of news for the two of you.” 

“I don’t like the sound of that,” Lily mumbled. 

“Shut it. Listen,” Marlene continued, “first off, there’s a party in the Ravenclaw common room next Saturday after the first Hogsmede trip. We’re going. Mary and Dorcas are going and we are going.” 

This earned a loud and long groan from Torrance. “No,” she grumbled, voice gravelly. “I don’t wanna go, Mar, please don’t make me go. I hate Ravenclaws and their stupid little riddles.” 

“We’re going. You’re going. Lily?” 

The freckled girl shrugged. “Sounds like fun.” 

Another long groan escaped Torrance’s lips. Marlene gently whacked her arm. “Quit whinging, will you? They’ve got firewhiskey, so you’ll have something to do other than brood in the corner.” 

Torrance pondered this for a moment, and then sighed. “As long as I can get pished.” 

“What’s the second bit, Mar?” Lily asked from across the table. 

This caused a wide grin to spread across Marlene’s face. “Well, I found out about this lovely gathering from Max Lewis.” 

“Who’s he again?” 

“Honestly, Tor, do you pay attention to anyone besides yourself?” 

Torrance snorted. “Naw.” 

Lily rolled her eyes again. She did that so often every time she found herself in a conversation with Marlene and Torrance that one day they’d get stuck there. “He’s a seventh year Ravenclaw. Seeker on their house team. Marlene’s been carrying a torch for him since fifth year.”

Torrance dropped her fork. “How many torches have you been carrying, exactly?” 

Marlene shrugged. “A fair few. Enough that I’ll never end up in the dark. But, this one seems to be burning the brightest at the moment. Said he would only enjoy himself if I was there,” she explained, sounding very smug with herself. 

“That was a beautiful metaphor,” Lily said through a tight smile, and Torrance couldn’t tell if she was making fun of Marlene or not. 

She had a lot of boyfriends, Marlene. A lot of boys liked her; she was blonde, athletic, bubbly. And more than anything, Marlene liked it when boys liked her, more than she liked the boys themselves. Torrance found the whole thing exhausting, trying to keep track of all the boys she liked and all the boys who liked her and which one she was dating. Whatever was happening with Max Lewis, Torrance didn’t want anything to do with it. And she _didn’t_ want to have to go to a party with a bunch of Ravenclaws because of it either. “I can’t wait for this one to be over with,” Torrance grumbled into her sweet potato. 

No one said anything to that, and Torrance left dinner with the feeling that she had done something wrong. 

“I think this is our best work yet, Drummond,” James Potter said, inhaling deeply and smiling broadly down at the potion. “I know it’s right because it smells just like Evans.” 

Pearlike and lovely, their Amortentia was perfect. And Torrance stared down at it with her cheek smushed up against her hand, bored. James did almost all of the work for this one. “”S a tidy brew, Potter,” she praised, grateful for the grade this would get her but otherwise disinterested. She was staring at Marlene, feeling guilty and wondering what she smelled and if it was anything close to the Ravenclaw tower. 

James watched her with a raised eyebrow. “What do you smell, then?” he asked, half curious and half pressuring her to talk.

She sighed, sitting up straighter and leaning in towards the shimmering potion. The air filled her nostrils and rushed down to her lungs and it made her dizzy. Torrance knew what it was at once. “That’s sweat and pot,” Torrance replied easily and leaned back in her chair, arms crossed. She couldn’t ignore James’s scandalized look. “My brother took me to see my favorite muggle band in London last summer. That’s what one of them smelled like.” 

“And that’s what you smell?” 

“Yeah.” 

“Some bloke from a muggle band? That smells like weed and sweat?” 

“Yeah. It was the Clash. He plays guitar. Girls like that.” 

James chuckled, a breathy one, and spooned the potion into a vial to turn in for grading. 

Slughorn eyed their perfect potion with apprehension and Torrance wondered if James had the capability of perfecting every potion he did and just chose not to. Or maybe it was her efforts that were dragging down their grade. She sighed, eyes on shimmering liquid, repulsed by the smell of it, repulsed by the sight of it. 

She felt some sort of yearning in her chest that she couldn’t understand. 

At the end of the hour, Torrance gathered up her supplies and tossed James a quick, “Cya.” But before she could make her way out into the corridor, James had her by the elbow, looking at her with something that felt dangerously close to pity in his eyes. Torrance narrowed her eyes at him. 

“I’ll walk with you,” was all he offered, releasing his grip on her and heaving his own bag over his shoulder. “You’ve got Herbology next right? The greenhouse by my Muggle Studies class.” 

Torrance furrowed her brow. “Naw, it’s not.” 

His response was a simple shrug. 

Walking through the corridors side-by-side with James Potter was strange. Their friendship existed solely in the confines of the Potions classroom, not in the bright corridors where they had other options for company. She felt uncomfortable, almost too aware of his presences inches away from her. She said nothing. 

James, on the other hand, maintained his cheery disposition, through stories that she only paid half-attention to. His voice was loud and echoed through the corridors, earning sly glances from people passing in the hall, glances that Torrance never missed. 

The walk to the greenhouse felt longer than usual. James left her with a large smile and unshakable feeling that this would not be the last time he did that. 

Dorcas was trying to read Torrance’s tarot cards. Her nose was scrunched up, freckles on her dark skin dancing across her face every time she picked a new way to express her frustration. Torrance didn’t know if staring at the cards this hard was helping Dorcas figure anything out but she was appreciating the silence that accompanied her thinking, even if steam was coming out of her ears. 

“Alright,” Dorcas said suddenly, voice clear and enlightened. “I think I’ve got something. There’s the seven of wands, reversed, and right next to it is the two of swords, so you’ve got a big decision to make, and you’re feeling a lot of pressure.” Dorcas clapped her hands, and grinning broadly. And then, her lips puckered up into a little ‘o’ and she pointed eagerly at one of the cards. “Oh, and there’s the nine of cups! So whatever choice you make, you’ll have emotional fulfillment at the end of it.” 

The most high pressure decision Torrance had to make was whether to sell her last pack of Marlboro’s to Peter Pettigrew for three galleons or to keep it for herself, and there was hardly any pressure from the boy that refused to make eye contact with her. “Well thank Godric for that,” Torrance replied easily, giving Dorcas a grin. 

She tried to be earnest, but as it usually did, sarcasm leaked into her tone and Dorcas sighed, dropping her face into her hands. “I’m hopeless.” 

“Oh,” Torrance cooed, sitting up and placing a hand on Dorcas’s shoulder. “Don’t feel bad, Meadowes. You probably read the cards right, but I’m an emotional fortress. Nothing can get past this,” she said, making a wide gesture across her neutral expression, “not even the celestial forces.” 

“Don’t try with me I know you’re a softie.”

Torrance grinned, leaning back down against the couch. “Do another one, then.” 

With a heavy sigh, Dorcas gathered up Torrance’s cards and started shuffling them once more. When Torrance bought them from Diagon Alley, they were crisp, golden and shiny. It only took a few months before they were dulled, edges fraying and softened. The witch who sold them to her told her to care for them, keep them close to her chest, and that if anyone else were to deal the cards, Torrance’s heart would stop. They bent under Dorcas’s fingers. Torrance’s heart was steady. 

It was early October, the leaves of the forest a vibrant red and the air fresh and wet, and rain gently hit the windows, echoing throughout the common room. It was the first Quidditch match of the year, Hufflepuff versus Slytherin, but Torrance was bored by it on the best of days, and opted out of the trip. She hated the cold and she hated the rain. Hated the way the water sank into her clothes, through her skin and into her bones, rattling her. She preferred the warmth of the fireplace, the red of the common room and the quiet of it all.

But Dorcas stopped her shuffling, placing the deck down on the table in front of them. “Are you sure you don’t want to go? Marlene’d like it if we went, I think.” 

Torrance rolled her head back. “Just deal out the cards, Meadowes. Marlene’s not even playing.” 

“Still,” Dorcas argued, but still moved her figures to continue her shuffling, “she’d like it. Always liked seeing Slytherin lose.” 

Slytherin didn’t lose. 

It was clear from the way that the Gryffindors started pooling through the door almost an hour later, sulking and complaining and grumbling, while Dorcas was dealing out her fourth reading for Torrance. House loyalty for the lions extended past the red and the gold; any victory for the Slytherins was a loss for them. Torrance didn’t care for it, the rivalry. There was some blood-purist prat in every house. 

Marlene didn’t feel that way. She slumped into the seat next to Dorcas and let her head roll off to the side. “It was  _ brutal,”  _ she greeted, soaking wet from the rain. “The Slytherin team really shaped up, from last year. Black’s probably the best seeker in the school,” she complained. “Potter’s lost his confidence now. There’s no way Walsh can keep up with Black, not a chance.” 

“Regulus Black?” Torrance inquired, smirking a little. “He’s quite fit, isn’t he?” 

Marlene sat up straight, and shot Torrance a harsh look. She was still annoyed at Torrance, pretending she wasn’t but sending her biting remarks whenever she could. “Really? Haven’t paid _ any _ bloke  _ any  _ mind in six years, and now you fancy  _ Regulus  _ from the  _ Noble House of Black _ ?” 

“I don’t  _ fancy  _ him,” Torrance protested, sitting up. “I just think he’s fit. I’d not marry him, but if he offered me a wee snog it’s not like I’d say no. You think he'd snog a muggle-born lass?” 

Dorcas flipped over another card and hummed. “Looks like no, Torrance.” 

“Damn,” Torrance murmured, ignoring the eye roll from Marlene. “Fancy sneaking into the kitchens tonight?” 

“Can’t,” Marlene replied easily. “Potter’s called an emergency practice and then after I’m meeting up with Lewis.” 

“That’s cracking,” Torrance said, because she didn’t know what else to say. “Meadowes?” 

Dorcas groaned. “Me and Lily have a  _ Slug Club  _ dinner tonight. Reckon it’ll be as dull as I fear, even though I got Mary to go as my date.” 

Something knotted in Torrance’s gut. They were pairing off. She gave a weak smile. “Well, that’s cracking as well.” 

The sun had long set on that Saturday night, and Torrance was tucked away in the library, alone and with a dusty old book that made her nose itch. Except she wasn’t really alone up there. Torrance couldn’t focus on the aged book in her hands. Remus Lupin was there. He was sitting by her, close enough to distract her but not far enough away for her to ignore. She kept lifting her eyes off the page to look up, watching him scribble down on a bit of spare parchment while he held a small book open in his other hand. 

He hadn’t tried to talk to her since he had asked for her help in Astronomy. Torrance figured whatever he told him worked; he even kept to himself up in the Astronomy Tower during classes. Torrance paid him a lot of mind during classes, she didn’t know why. She paid him a lot of mind then, watching the way his shoulders hunched and his long bony fingers held onto this book. 

Remus Lupin was strange. She didn’t know if that was a werewolf thing or just a teenage boy thing or some combination of both, but she knew it was something. He was quiet, resigned to quick sly smirks and breathless laughs, at most. Lupin was all bottled up and tightly sealed, hiding behind worn books and the boisterous nature of his friends. But he would pass around whispers that looked far from innocent. He would walk around corridors with his hand tight around his wand and there was something foreboding about his presences. Maybe that was the werewolf thing. 

Torrance had decided, suddenly and with conviction, and she had spent too much time studying the way Remus Lupin poured over his texts. With a heavy breath, she dropped her book in her bag and stood. 

She was halfway towards the door when she heard Remus called after her. “Oh, Torrance, are you leaving?” 

Torrance stopped and turned. He was seated at his table, frozen with his pen in hand, looking up at her with wide eyes. She tilted her head, eyes narrowed. “Aye.” 

“I’ll walk with you,” he said, leaping into motion, packing up his quill, closing up his books. 

“Oh, naw, that’s alright,” Torrance dismissed, waving her hand. Heat was creeping up her cheeks. She didn’t like the idea of it. 

But he was already standing, bag over his shoulder and shaking his head. “No, really, it’s no problem.” 

“Erm, you don’t have to leave on my behalf.” 

“I was just about to, anyways.” 

Torrance stared at her shoes, tapping her toes against the carpet. She watched the floor as his feet stepped closer, until he was standing by her side. “Alright?” 

She nodded, turning on her heel. He followed her out of the library. Torrance’s ears were hot and buzzing. His presence  _ was  _ foreboding. “What were you reading?” he questioned, voice hushed like they were still in the library. 

“Some muggle book,” she mumbled, eyes not raising.

There was a thick pause. The sound of their heels echoing against the floor was bouncing off the walls and back and Torrance’s ears. She was all too aware of how empty it was. No one was making the trek from their dorms to the library. “Any good?” 

Torrance nodded. “Aye.” 

Remus looked down at Torrance, and she became all too aware of how much taller he was than her. “What’s it about?” 

“Erm, just this girl in America. New York,” she clarified, struggling to find words. 

“Sounds fascinating.” 

“Yeah.” 

Torrance bit down on the inside of her cheek. Remus Lupin was walking her back to the Gryffindor Tower, and it was strange. She didn’t like it, any more than she liked the idea of James walking her to her classes. And then her eyebrows shot up. “You’re not,” she faltered, looking up at him, “you and your friends aren’t trying to,” she trailed off, shaking her head. “This isn’t about the other night, is it?” 

It was just a quick hex from Rosier that hit her when she wasn’t looking. It wasn't that worst she ever had and it wasn’t the messiest. But Sirius Black was self-righteous and presumptuous and a bloody nose meant a lot more to him that it meant to her. 

But Remus shrugged. “I know you don’t think it’s a big deal, whatever happened, but even if it was, it doesn't have to happen again.” 

Torrance felt her face burn up. “I can take care of myself.” 

“Yeah,” he teased, tone light, “I could tell that from the bloody you got on my robes.” 

Torrance didn’t say anything, just ground her teeth together and tried to convince herself that he wasn’t right. 


End file.
